Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, Ma/ft, ft/ft, Fa/ft, Consensual, Rape, Hermaphrodite, Fiction, Aunt, FemaleDom, Humiliation, Caution, Violent,
Desc: Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Mira is a girl with a secret. When she finds herself taking part in the Program, she has to come to terms with herself and how others see her.
NIS The Real Story
Hello. My name is Mira. I just completed my week in the Program and I need to write a fucking journal. My bitch of an aunt enrolled me in the NIS program. For those of you who need a clue, I wasn't pleased about this.
We've all seen, I'm sure, the wonderful tales of those who entered the program and found their true love. Yeah, right. Although I can't prove this, I believe at least some of those tales to be mere propaganda for the whole program.
I've provided below an example of the formula I believe to be common to most NIS stories.
Monday (Day 1): OMG!!!!! I'm naked in school!!!! The school sucks, my parents suck, and the NIS committee sucks!!! This is the worst thing ever!! They've partnered me with a complete loser!
Tuesday (Day 2): Wow. The loser actually has some good points. This may not be too bad after all. I think I could come to like this person. By the way, I'm getting a little more comfortable with everyone looking at me, but I still hate it when they touch me.
Wednesday (Day 3): OMG!!!!! (again) My partner is really awesome!!! How'd I ever think that he/she was such a loser. I think I may be in love with him/her ... but what does he/she think about me?
Thursday (Day 4): OMG!!! OMG!!! OMG!!! (drama much?) We slept together and it was great. Never mind the fact that we were both ignorant virgins, he/she knew exactly what I needed. I hope he/she doesn't think I am a slut/only want him/her for the sex. What have I done? This is the person I want to spend my life with and I've ruined it.
Friday (Day 5): Whew; he/she understands me. He/she knows that I'll always be faithful to him/her. Never mind that I blew the football team/fucked all the cheerleaders. Now that the program week's over, I'll always be faithful and will never look at another boy/girl in a sexual way again. Thank you, NIS, for bringing us together! This has been the best experience of my life.
Now, I know this "cookie cutter formula" does not fit all the stories; just most of them. As I said, I can't prove anything, but I don't buy all of the stories as real occurrences. Now, I could start my story with the Monday formula, but I'd rather give you some insight as to who I am prior to my evisceration of the NIS program.
As I said, my name is Mira. Mira Valenova. My mother was an American working in Russia in 1995 when she met my father. The Berlin wall had fallen, the people in Russia were enjoying freedoms like they'd never experienced before, and it was kicking their asses. My mother's job was as an aide to a businessman recruiting Russians to come work in the states.
You see, with the new opportunities in Russia, many companies were offering goods and services to the masses. The problem was that no one could afford the new products/services being made available. The businessman and my mother worked for a consulting firm in Chicago.
They wanted real Russians to consult with manufacturers to find a healthy compromise between product excellence and product affordability. My father, Mikhail Valenova, was one of their many recruits.
Three years after my father started working in the states, he and my mother started seeing each other. A year later, they were married. In 2000, a year after their marriage, I was born. Mirabella Irina Valenova.
My father was a brilliant man. When he got to America, he liked what he saw and worked hard to build a life for himself, his wife, and his daughter. He managed to land a job as an IT specialist and was earning six figures a year.
We lived in Cape Elizabeth, a small town on the coast in Maine. My mother quit her job in Chicago and moved back to Maine, where she had grown up. My father spent his time as a database consultant for several major companies in Portland.
It was when I was nine, that this fairy tale story starts to crumble. My father was on a flight from Japan when the plane went down. There were no survivors. My mother and I took it hard, but she did what she needed to in order to ensure that we were taken care of.
She hired a financial consultant and had the consultant manage my father's investments. The consultant did a great job and the investment's value rose to close to thirty million dollars.
Realizing how fragile life is, she drafted a will and had it certified by an attorney friend of hers. No one in her family got anything. Apparently, they disapproved of her marriage to my father and cut all ties with her.
My aunt, my mother's younger sister, was the most reasonable of the bunch. She was still a nasty woman, but had maintained contact with mom. Because of that, my mother named Aunt Susan my guardian if my mother died.
Sadly, I found out about all this when, shortly after my 14th birthday last year, my mother was killed in a crosswalk by a speeding motorist who ran a red light. I spent four months in a hospital due to trauma and another two months in foster care while the authorities looked for a relative who was willing to take me in.
There was really no other choice. Aunt Susan didn't want anything to do with me, but the will stipulated that my expenses would be covered. Aunt Susan would receive $5,000 a month for as long as I stayed with her. Upon my 18th birthday, she'd receive 300 thousand dollars in cash. I knew nothing about this until this week.
Anyway, I wasn't appreciated when I moved in. My aunt was living in a tiny 1-bedroom apartment. It'd take two months to find a larger apartment and we were very cramped.
Aunt Susan made me sleep on the floor, as the couch was too short for me to sleep on and Aunt Susan refused to share a bed. I was okay with that. It beat the foster care system.
Things got decidedly more complicated one morning when she walked in on me one morning as I was going to the bathroom. Okay. This is where I may lose some of you, but here it goes.
I'm a girl. There's no denying it. I have medium-sized tits (34C) and have been having my period for the last three years. That said, I'm not a normal girl. I have an extremely rare physical condition that has caused trouble in the past and will cause trouble in the future. I'm a hermaphrodite.
Now, in most cases, a hermaphrodite doesn't have two complete sets of genitalia. Some have a pseudo-penis that takes the place of their clitoris. Others simply develop breasts even though they have a man's genitalia.
In a lot of cases, there's no visibly conspicuous sign of hermaphroditism. They may look like a man on the outside, but look rather effeminate as their testicles may be absent or non-productive. In some cases, they even have ovaries.
In my case, however, I have complete female genitalia plus a little extra. The little extra consists of a 6-inch penis. The penis is about an inch and a half above my clitoris. I have no testicles but I do have functioning ovaries.
In my case, my urethra goes through my penis instead of my vagina. As a result, I'm the only girl I know who can write her name in the snow without any tools. Because peeing while standing is much louder than peeing while sitting, I usually sit. That was the position I was in when Aunt Susan came in.
"Oh," she said abruptly. "I didn't know you were in here."
She turned to go, then stopped. Turning slowly, she stared at my crotch.
"What the fuck is that?"
I should note that I'd assumed that Aunt Susan had read my medical file or had spoken with my doctor. I thought she knew of my condition and that was why she disliked me. Apparently, I was wrong.
"It's my penis," I responded.
"I thought you were a girl."
"I am a girl."
"Bullshit! You're just a perverted little creep. Getting breast augmentation to look like a girl is just sick."
It was then that I realized what I needed to do. With a sigh, I lifted my penis out of the way and displayed my vagina.
Aunt Susan's mouth just shut with a snap. She looked like she was going to faint and I hoped she didn't. She weighed close to 125 pounds and I knew I would not be able to move her by myself very easily.
Fortunately, she didn't faint. Instead, she spun like a top, got her phone and called the lawyer. When the screaming began, I realized breakfast was shot. I grabbed my backpack and went to school.
By the time I got home, things had settled down. My aunt had dinner ready and she seemed almost civilized. She told me that we were moving at the end of the week. She'd found a place about 50 miles away that was perfect, she said,
The new apartment sure sounded good. It was 2200 square feet, had three bedrooms, and three baths. In addition, it was a 20-minute walk from the local high school.
The new apartment was $1700 a month, but the $5000 a month she got for taking care of me would more than cover it. I asked about her job, but was told she had a friend in the area that owned a nightclub. He would take her on starting immediately.
It was then that I realized that she was being nice to me. Now, I don't mind someone being nice to me, but when it's someone who previously treated me with open hostility, the alarm bells start ringing.
I was about to bring up that morning, hoping to talk with her about my body, but she took charge of the discussion, telling me about all we needed to do before the movers got there on Friday. As it was already Tuesday night, that left little time.
Before I could say anything to her, we were already moved into our new place. Her friend (and new boss) had a friend who was the principal of my new high school and they'd rushed all the paperwork through so I'd be able to start school the following Monday.
My first day at the new school started great. When I got to school, I got my books, my class schedule, and a map of the school. The secretary offered to walk me to my homeroom classroom, but I declined. I was new. I didn't want to look like I needed special attention.
It was during homeroom that I discovered what my aunt had done. Over the intercom, a voice asked that one of the girls in my classroom go to the office.
Now, those of you who have read other NIS stories know what happened. I hadn't read any of them yet. I had no clue.
The girl, a mousy little thing named Mary Shaker, lived up to her name and started shaking in her seat. Some people were commisserating with her while others were giving her some good-natured ribbing. I understood later, but right then, I was completely mystified.
You might wonder how I got to the ninth grade without hearing about the Program, but it really wasn't too surprising. Until my mother died, I was home-schooled. While I was in the system, I went to a charter school that had not implemented the Program.
I was, therefore, completely stunned when Elizabeth returned from the office sans clothing.
"What the hell," I whispered to the girl sitting next to me.
"It's just the Program," she replied. "I did it a month ago."
"Program? Did it? Did what?"
"Spent the week naked. Didn't they have the Program in your old school?"
I could only shake my head.
"Surely, you've heard of it," she said, surprised at my shock.
I shook my head again.
"Every week, two kids from each year - freshman to senior - are selected and must be naked for a week. They have to take their clothes off when they get here and can't put them back on until after school ends for the day. Oh yeah, if they attend any school functions like games or concerts, or anything, they have to be naked for that as well."
She reached into her backpack and pulled out a pamphlet.
"This," she said, handing me the pamphlet, "will tell you all about it. Every kid gets one of these when they are selected for the program. They issue them at the start of the year, but they expect we'll lose them. I still have mine from the start of school so I don't need this one. You can have it."
I thanked her and started reading the pamphlet. It wasn't very thick, considering the number of horrors held within its pages. I could feel my eyebrows rising higher and higher as I read each page.
"Holy shit," I mumbled. Well, I thought I mumbled. Apparently, it was more of a shout.
"Excuse me, Miss Valenova," my homeroom teacher, Mr. Anderson, said. "Is there something wrong?"
"I ... I'm sorry," I stuttered. Fuck, I hate when I do that.
"I was just reading this pamphlet and it says the students can molest the people in the program."
"They are 'Reasonable Requests', Miss Valenova. It is not molestation."
"But they can touch the program participants?"
"For the most part, yes. If, for some reason, the participant feels touching is unreasonable, a teacher is called upon to issue a ruling. In most cases, though, despite the wishes of the participant, what is being requested falls within the boundaries of a 'Reasonable Request'."
"And anyone can be put into this program?"
"It's usually done in a random selection, but, yes. The school administration can assign someone to be in the program if they feel it's warranted. For example, if someone were to abuse the 'Reasonable Requests' and truly molest someone in the program, the offender can be put into the program as well."
"In such cases, the offender's usually placed in the program for the remainder of the current week and the next full week. We find that this helps dissuade most people from abusing the rules for kicks."
I shut up and continued reading. Sure enough, he was proven correct as the pamphlet expressed just what he'd told me. This wasn't good. It was just a matter of time before I'd be parading my naked body with its extra appendage in front of the school. Did my aunt plan this? I wouldn't put it past her.
As soon as the bell rang, noting the passing period between homeroom and first period, I was out of my seat and heading to the nurse's office. There had to be some kind of exemption I qualified for. Most people aren't too accepting of my body. In theory, they're fine, but they tend to freak out when faced with the real thing.
I hit the door so hard, that, had it been locked, I would've ripped it off the hinges. As it was, the door hit the wall so hard, the metal handle on the inside put a dent in the wall.
The nurse was so startled, she spilled her coffee on her uniform. She sent me a wicked look and we were off to a great start.
"What the hell do you think your doing," she asked angrily.
I was suitably apologetic and she softened while she cleaned herself up and changed her clothes.
"Let's start with names, dear. I am Nurse Adams. You can call me 'Andie'."
"Mira Valenova," I replied. "My friends call me 'Mira'."
"Okay, Mira," Andie said. "The way you burst into here, I assume there's a problem of some magnitude. Why don't you tell me about it?"
"It's the Program," I said. "I need a medical exemption form."
She nodded wearily.
"I see," she said. "Well, you made your way in here on your own two legs, so I assume the condition isn't something readily visible; at least, not while you are dressed."
I had forgotten how difficult it is to discuss this with strangers. I figured that I'd save time and show her. As I stripped off, starting with my blouse and bra, her eyebrows rose.
"You don't need to do that," she said. "You can just tell..."
Her words cut off as my pants and panties were pushed to the floor, my penis popping into view.
"What the hell," she muttered, rising from her seat.
"I'm a hermaphrodite," I said quietly, lifting my penis to expose my vagina. "I would like to be excused from the Program because I don't believe it would be too safe for me. Most people won't know how to handle this."
She stopped herself just before she touched my member. She shook herself to awareness and sat back down.
"I'd like to help you, Mira," she said. "You may be right about how the other kids'll react. I can easily imagine how some of the jocks will react."
"But," I prompted, knowing that there was an issue.
"There's no exemption offered for physical issues."
"So," I said, fear creeping into my voice, "there's nothing I can do?"
"I didn't say that," she replied. "I'm going to contact the Program Advisory Board. This is an extreme situation and I think they might be sympathetic to your situation."
"When will we get a response," I asked.
"I couldn't say. It could be two days or two months."
"Is there anything else I can do?"
"If your parents know a decent attorney, they might be able to find a legal exemption."
I immediately thought about Mr. Pendergrast. Mr. Pendergrast was my mother's lawyer. He was also a close family friend. I should call him to see what we could come up with. Maybe there's a legal remedy for this situation. Mr. Pendergrast knew I had a condition, but did not have any of the details.
A noise brought me back to the moment. Nurse Adams jolted as well. The noise turned out to be the coat rack falling over. It was caught in the door, holding the door slightly open.
"Someone was here," the nurse said.
I had a sinking feeling and was about to say something when the nurse shooed me out of the office. I was late for class. She assured me that she'd look into my situation and look for an exemption for me.
I'd missed most of the first period, so Nurse Adams had given me a note for the teacher. I was having female issues, the note said, and the nurse had to give me some medication.
Mr. Walker, my first-period English teacher, glanced at the note and gestured toward a seat near the back of the class, indicating that I should sit down. I sat down, pulled out my book, and frowned. I had no idea where we were.
"Chapter 9," said the girl sitting next to me. "Page 243."
Flipping to close to the middle of the book, I glanced at the girl in puzzlement. It wasn't that late into the school year.
"Mr. Walker goes through the book in his own order," she whispered. "Last week, we were on Chapter 12."
"Excuse me, Miss Lancaster," Mr. Walker said. "Is there a problem?"
"Um," the girl said. "She didn't know where we were in the book. I was just telling her."
"Well," he replied. "Thank you, but may we continue now?"
"Uh, sure," she said sheepishly. "Anytime you are ready, Mr. Walker."
Mr. Walker shook his head ruefully, and returned to the lesson. He finished his lesson five minutes before the end of the period, but didn't want to start on a new topic with so little time remaining. He gave us free time for the last five minutes.
"Uh, thanks, uh..." I said to the girl.
"Lisa," she said. "Lisa Lancaster."
"Right. Thanks, Lisa. I'm sorry for getting you into trouble."
"Oh," Lisa said with a smile. "I'm not in trouble. Dad will just rib me about it at dinner tonight."
"Mr. Walker," Lisa replied. "He married my mom four years ago. We get along great, but we have agreed that it would be weird for me to call him dad while we are at school."
"That must be a nightmare, having your dad on the faculty. There are no secrets from him. Your teachers must tell him everything."
"Yeah," she replied with a chuckle. "Luckily, I'm near the top of the class..."
"At the top of this class, at least," another girl said. "Don't be modest, bitch."
"Annie," Lisa said, "this is Mira. She's new."
"No shit. I think I would've seen her before, otherwise."
I started to get nervous. Was I going to see a fight? God, I hoped not.
"Knock it off, Annie," Lisa said, seeing my concern. "Don't worry about Annie, Mira. We've been best friends since kindergarten."
"Yep," Annie said. "Ever since we tied for first place in that relay race."
"We've been competing ever since," Lisa said. "Grades, sports, you name it."
"We used to be even, but you have really taken off in most of our classes since Mr. Walker married your mom."
"But you still dominate in sports ... and mathematics."
"It is easy to dominate when you don't even play, anymore," Annie said.
"Lisa wants to be a doctor, so she pulled out of sports to focus more on her schoolwork. I rib her about Mr. Walker marrying her mom, but to be honest, she's so smart, that she would've blown me out of the water, anyway. Her only weakness, as far as I can tell, is math."
"Doctor, I asked?"
"My mom's a doctor," Lisa said. "A few years ago she took me to her work; a 'Take your child to work' kind of thing. I've wanted to be a doctor ever since."
"What kind of doctor is she?"
"Gynecologist," Annie replied, starting to laugh. "Imagine how awkward that visit would have been if Lisa had been a boy."
"So, Mira," Lisa said, ignoring her friend. "Welcome to KHH."
"Kennedy High Hell," Annie said. "It's what we students call our school. The teachers don't like it, but they realize the futility of trying to stop us."
The bell rung and we left the room. I pulled out my map, trying to find my next class. I got hit from behind and dropped my bag, books, and map as I fell to the floor.
"Easy, Mary," Annie said to the girl from my homeroom. She was still naked.
"Sorry," Mary said. "I had some lengthy 'reasonable requests' and I'm going to be late."
She helped me to my feet, apologized again, and tore off down the hall. I couldn't stop staring at her.
"You didn't have the Program in your last school," Annie said with a grin. "Did you?"
I shook my head. They looked at each other and smiled.
"Don't worrk, Mira," Lisa said. "New kids don't usually get picked for the Program. They typically wait a month or two to let you get used to the idea."
"Does everyone have to go through it?"
"Yep," Annie said. "I was picked the third week and Lisa was picked two weeks later."
An idea started to form in my mind.
"Lisa," I said cautiously. "You said your mom's a gynecologist, right?"
"Actually," Annie said with a grin, "I said that."
"Um, is she accepting new patients?"
"I don't know," Lisa said. "Maybe. You need a new doctor?"
"Yeah," I said. "I just moved here and need to get these things set up."
"Well, why don't you come over after school? My mom's office is a block from our house. We can stop there on the way."
My aunt wouldn't be home until late, so I decided to take Lisa up on her offer.
"Sure. Thanks, Lisa."
The rest of the schoolday passed normally. I saw Mary and some of the other Program participants a few times, but did not get too close.
As we were walking to her mom's office, I had a thought. I really wanted to let Lisa know about me. I was going to see her mom and see if the doctor could come up with a medical reason for me to get exempted from the Program. In the event that no excuse could be found, everyone was going to know about me anyway.
"Can we stop by your house before we go to your mother's office? I need to talk to you about some things."
Lisa looked at me with a puzzled look, but readily agreed.
It took only ten minutes more to get to Lisa's house. I didn't know how I was going to tell her. She seemed cool, but I'd learned that most people were unlikely to accept me easily. With her mom being a doctor, maybe Lisa could.
Anyway, if I couldn't get out of the Program, she'd find out eventually. It'd hurt more if we were already friends when she found out I'm a freak. Better to let her know now, before I get invested in this friendship.
"I'll be honest with you," I told Lisa when we were sitting in her bedroom. "I'm using you. I'm using your mom, too. I'm not happy about it, but I don't see any other way."
Lisa surprised me. She didn't get angry. She didn't even get mildly upset. She just nodded at me.
"I want a way to get out of having to do the Program," I said.
"Why," Lisa asked. "It really isn't that bad. It's not pleasant at first, but you're just like any other girl. By this point of the year, the boys have seen enough pussies that you have no reason to be embarrassed."
"I wouldn't say that," I said, miserably.
"What do you mean?"
"Please don't laugh or be disgusted," I said as I unbuttoned my blouse.
Lisa watched in silence as I removed my clothing. Upon seeing my cock, she got a look of shock on her face.
"May I touch it," she asked, reaching for it even before I agreed.
"Yes, but be gentle, please."
She looked at my breasts and my cock. She didn't seem to know what to think. Reaching out, she took my cock in her hand and lifted it up, looking at it from all angles. When she caught sight of my pussy, I saw her stiffen.
"You're a hermaphrodite," she said in awe.
"Yes," I said quietly. "This is why I don't want to be in the program."
"I see," she said. "It makes sense. Neither the boys or girls would be too comfortable with you."
"In the past," I said, "guys who knew about me usually assumed I was a guy who was going through surgery to become a girl. I was beaten up plenty of times. The girls weren't as physically abusive. They just called me a freak and wouldn't play with me. The reason I didn't have the program in my last school is that I was home-schooled until about a year ago."
"And you think my mom can help you?"
"I'm hoping so. I hope I can get a medical exemption from the Program. The school nurse couldn't help me. I'm hoping a real doctor might know of some way."
"Well, get dressed. Let's go see my mom. Do you want me in the room when my mom examines you?"
"Would you," I asked, greatly relieved that she hadn't reacted with scorn. "I can't tell you how scared I am. Having a friend there would help tremendously."
"I'm sure I can convince my mom to allow it."
"Thanks," I said, putting my clothes back on.
Her mother's office was nice. There were three other doctors, but Lisa's mom owned the building. She rented out space to the other doctors.
We had to wait for a bit. Luckily, her mother's last appointment had cancelled so she'd be able to see me. We'd have to wait about an hour. Lisa tried to talk to me, but I could only sit in silence, watching the clock as the time ticked by.
We were finally admitted and the medical assistant looked confused when I requested that Lisa be allowed to stay. I explained that this was my first visit to a gynecologist. I was nervous and would feel much better if Lisa were allowed to stay with me.
The assistant said that Lisa could stay until the doctor arrived, but the doctor had the final say. She might not want her daughter present during the other girl's examination. If that was the case, Lisa would need to wait outside.
Lisa's mother arrived ten minutes later. She frowned and was about to tell Lisa to wait outside when I spoke up.
"Please, Dr. Lancaster. Let Lisa stay. I'd really feel better if she was here."
"It's Dr. Walker," she said. "Lisa kept her father's name. I took her step-father's name. You can call me Ruth, though."
"Well," she continued, "normally, only the patient is allowed unless the other person is a parent. If, however, you really want her here, I'll allow it. She will, however, need to sit in that corner and stay there."
Lisa rolled her eyes, but took the seat.
"So, Mira," Ruth asked once she was sure Lisa would not get in the way, "what brings you here, today?"
"Well, Ruth," I replied, "I have a medical condition and I'm hoping it'll be enough to warrant an exemption from the Naked In School Program."
"Those exemptions are getting more and more difficult to obtain," Ruth said. "You look healthy enough from here. Why wouldn't you want to participate in the Program? Lisa went through it earlier this year and it wasn't bad at all."
I looked at Lisa and, at her nod, I stood up.
"It'll be much easier if I show you. I'll answer any questions you have after you have seen my condition."
I stripped down for the third time that day and, again, was met with confusion until I lifted my cock to expose my pussy. Like Lisa, though, her mother made the connection immediately.
She gestured for me to get on the table and put my feet in the stirrups. I knew this was going to happen so, despite being as nervous as I was, I complied. Ruth felt around to examine me and was very pleased.
"Well," she said, "you are a very healthy girl. I see your concerns, though. I don't believe the Program Committee took hermaphrodites into consideration when drawing up the rules."
"Well, we are kind of rare," I said.
"Not as rare as you might think," Ruth said. "There are many hermaphrodites that have no outward indications of their conditions. I know of one, myself. I know of one girl who has testicles instead of ovaries. They're not fully-formed and, therefore, don't produce testosterone or semen."
"Would you consent to a full examination," Ruth asked. "You're correct in your belief that hermaphrodites that are fully-formed are very rare. I knew it was possible, but, you're the first I've met."
"What do you mean by 'full examination'?"
She glanced at her daughter, motioning for Lisa to leave. Lisa didn't budge. With a sigh of displeasure, Ruth looked back to me.
"As I said, you're the first fully-formed hermaphrodite I've met. I'm curious about how functional your genitalia are. In the examination, I'd like you to masturbate to climax; with both your penis and your vagina."
I knew this was going to be embarrassing, but I'd resigned myself to this course of action.
"Okay," I acquiesced. "If you don't want to be here for this, Lisa, I understand."
"Would you have a problem with me staying," she asked. "I must admit, I'm as curious as mom is."
Tha's right. Lisa wants to be a doctor, too. What the hell?
"If you want to watch the freak show, feel free."
I immediately felt bad. Neither Lisa, nor her mom, had treated me as anything but another person. They didn't look down on me and they didn't give me odd looks.
"I'm sorry," I said. "Actually, Lisa, if you want to stay, it would make me feel better. I'd be lying if I said this doesn't scare me."
Lisa smiled. Ruth just threw up her hands.
"Whatever," the doctor said. "I'd like to get home some time tonight. Can we begin?"
It really wasn't that big a deal. I'd masturbated both ways before and both had their nice points. Stroking my penis to ejaculation was much faster, however, so I did that one first. It took five minutes and then I was spraying fluids all over the poor doctor.
"I'm sorry," I screamed. "That has never happened before. That is the first time it shot out like that."
I jumped down to grab some paper towels and was astonished to hear both mother and daughter laughing.
"That's perfectly fine, Mira," Ruth said looking at the fluids on her hand and arm. "Well, we can definitely say you can ejaculate. This, though, isn't semen. It's merely Cowper's Fluid."
"What does that mean, Mom," Lisa asked.
"It means that Mira won't be able to get anyone pregnant."
I then masturbated using my clitoris and vagina. This time, it took close to 15 minutes, but the results were the same. I ended up almost falling off the table while I was writhing in the throes of my orgasm.
"Mira," she said, handing me some towels to clean myself up. "Do you get your period?"
"Sadly, yes," I said. "Every month."
"I noticed that you lack a urethral opening near your vagina. Am I correct in assuming you urinate through your penis?"
"Interesting," Ruth said. "I think I see your issues where the Program's concerned. With all the hysteria around the concept of homosexuality and gay marriage, I think it's likely that you'd face difficulties during your time in the Program. I think you might be able to make a case because of your situation. You'd, however, need to contact a lawyer."
"I'm sorry, though," she continued. "I know of no way to get a medical exemption because of this. Check with a lawyer, though. There should be some legal remedy available to you."
"Thank you," I said.
Ruth still had paperwork to complete, so Lisa and I didn't wait for her. We walked back to her house so I could get my backpack. Then I went home. Surprisingly, I only lived five blocks away from Lisa. It'd be nice having a friend so close.
"Where the hell have you been?"
I'd just gotten home and, to my surprise, Aunt Susan was already there.
"I stopped at a friend's house on the way home."
"And when," my aunt demanded, "were you planning on preparing dinner?"
Oh, yeah. Now that we were in the new place, Aunt Susan had decided that with me in the house, I'd earn my keep by taking on any responsibilities she no longer wanted to handle. This covered cooking dinner, doing dishes, doing laundry, and all the housework.
On Saturdays, I had to strip the linens from the beds. I'd put fresh linens on the beds, then I'd have to wash the dirty ones. On Sundays, I had to vacuum and dust every room in the apartment.
From Monday through Friday, I only had to prepare dinner and clean up afterwards. Aunt Susan would have had me do more, but acknowledged that I needed time to do my schoolwork.
"I was planning on getting dinner ready when I got home," I said, pulling some chicken breasts from the freezer. "It's only five o'clock. You said you were expecting to be at the office until eight."
After I set the chicken on the counter, I turned to face Aunt Susan. I never saw the blow coming. I just saw stars as her open hand slapped me across the face.
"Never you mind when I say I'll be home. I want dinner ready at five-thirty every night. Also, remember to check the answering machine every day. I may be bringing people home for dinner from time to time."
I slowly counted to ten. This wasn't the first time she hit me. It wouldn't be the last. I hate it, but I'm only fourteen years old. I can't take care of myself just yet and I'll be damned if I'm going to go back into the foster system.
"Yes, Aunt Susan," I said when I'd regained my composure. "I'll get dinner ready now."
"I want you home right after school. Every day."
"I was hoping to make some friends, Aunt Susan."
"And what would a little freak like you do with friends? You know they're just going to run as soon as they find out about your body. No. You'll come straight home from school."
It was fruitless to argue with her. I've learned that reality does not play too heavily in her world. Facts don't matter. If she says something is so, then, by god, it is so. Especially, when it comes to anything concerning me or my body.
She hadn't responded the morning she saw me. I'd hoped that meant that she'd be able to handle it. That proved not to be the case. Whenever, she drank, she'd complain about how my mother couldn't give birth to a normal baby.
There were no locks on any door other than the front door. Whenever I would shower, Aunt Susan would would come in, close the lid to the toilet, and wait for me to come out to dry off. Apparently, she loved taunting me about my penis.
She'd demand to examine me under the pretense of making sure I was doing an adequate job of cleaning myself. She'd grab my penis, pull it up to expose my pussy, and then run a finger into me. Then she'd sniff her finger to make sure I was clean.
I put up with these indignities as best I could. I thought about telling someone about how my Aunt was abusing me, but her abuse was still better than the system. When deciding between 'evil' and 'really evil', it was no choice really. I chose the lesser of the two evils.
"Yes, aunt," I said. "I'll come straight home after school."
I made our dinner and, after she left the kitchen, I cleaned up. I finished my homework and went to bed.